


Car Accidents Cause Bruises

by tirstygirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Car Accidents, Concussions, Dean Winchester Takes Care of Sam Winchester, Emotionally Hurt Dean Winchester, FebuWhump2021, Grief/Mourning, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Parental Bobby Singer, Season/Series 02, febuwhumpday13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:12:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29415414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tirstygirl/pseuds/tirstygirl
Summary: While mourning John's death, Dean doesn't realize that the car accident did more damage to Sam than he thought.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Kudos: 51
Collections: febuwhump 2021





	Car Accidents Cause Bruises

**Author's Note:**

> Febuwhump Day 13: Hiding Injury
> 
> I've had this one written for a few weeks so it just needed some polishing up thankfully. I still plan to finish and post days 8-12.

The Winchester’s were gonna be the death of him, Bobby decided. Bobby wasn’t a huge fan of John and he especially hated how he’d raised the boys, but he was still a major loss to the hunting community, and he knew his boys were hurting over the loss of their father. Dean was on the usual diet of hunters in pain, whiskey and nothing but. He was usually found fixing the Impala, but Bobby knew he’d taken a few swings at some of the junkers farther out in the salvage yard. If Dean thought Bobby couldn’t hear him, he was a dumbass. More likely though, Dean just didn’t care if Bobby heard him or not. 

Sam on the other hand was far more reserved. He was obviously hurting, but was doing everything in his power to hide his hurt. Bobby had heard him crying in the bathroom just that morning. He was also hiding physical injuries. Bobby tried several times to take a look at the injuries, but Sam brushed them off, stating that the medical staff had looked him over, and he was fine. Bobby knew that was bullshit. He was certain Sam had signed an AMA form the second he could to be with his dying brother. Sam only let one person care for him, and that person was avoiding him like the plague.

Bobby looked up from his coffee mug as Sam walked into the kitchen, deep bruises under his eyes indicated just how little sleep the kid was getting. and nodded to him in greeting. He had a soft limp as he crossed to the coffee pot and Bobby sighed inwardly. Damn Sam for hiding this shit from him. Maybe if he got Sam to help him out today he could get him to open up some about the injuries. At least enough to know what Sam was dealing with physically.

“I have some research I need to get done for a hunter down in Kentucky. I could use an extra pair of eyes.”

Sam nodded back to Bobby. “Sure, Bobby. I’ll meet you in the library.” He limped out of the kitchen and Bobby let himself sigh out loud. Like he said, they’ll be the death of him. After taking a few more moments to gather up his small ounce of patience reserved solely for his boys, he stands with a grunt and makes his way towards his desk. Sam’s leaning back in an armchair, eyes closed and hands massaging his temples. 

Bobby rolls his eyes and walks into the room, looking towards the stacks of books next to the desk, giving Sam a chance to recover, letting him think Bobby didn’t just see further proof of his pain. 

The morning passes slowly and uneventfully Bobby can tell Sam is having trouble focusing on the material. Sam eye’s keep glazing over until he shakes his head and blinks a few times before scanning the book til he finds where he lost his focus. A few hours into the research Bobby asks Sam to hand him a large book. Sam reaches towards the book on his left side without his gaze breaking from the research on his lap. When he grasps the book and lifts, a small sharp gasp erupts from him and he winces. Quickly, he steels his face and reaches his other hand to help lift, handing the book off without any eye contact. Bobby audibly sighs, but doesn’t say anything about it. 

When lunch time hits, Sam is spacing out for longer and longer periods of time and keeps adjusting his position every few seconds. Bobby calls for a break and says he’s gonna make lunch and fetch Dean to come eat. 

“Good luck with that.” Sam snorts. “He hasn’t wanted to eat since dad.”

“Well it’s about time that changes. As much as the boy wants to live off whiskey, the idgit’s not gonna be able to sustain it much longer.”

Bobby stalked off towards the kitchen and slapped together a sandwich for each of them. He called out to Sam, telling him to come eat while he went and got Dean. He finds Dean under the Impala, an open bottle of whiskey next to the toolbox. 

“Dean, lunch is on the table, come eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I don’t care. Come eat. Besides, I need to talk to you. It’s about Sam. There’s something wrong with him.”

“Yeah, he keeps trying to get me to do the whole caring and sharing bullshit.”

“No, ya idgit. He’s hiding something. He keeps squinting at the lights and losing focus. He’s limping and rumbling at his temples when he thinks I can’t see him. And there’s something wrong with his left shoulder.”

Dean slides out from under the car, a worried expression on his face.

“What happened? Did he go somewhere?”

“No you dumbass. he’s hurt from the damn car wreck. You’ve seen the car carcass, Dean. You think he walked away from that accident with no injuries? You may have made a miraculous recovery, but he didn’t.”

“Shit.”

“He won’t let me look at any of them, and any time I ask about them he claims he’s fine. You were in real bad shape Dean. I’d bet a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue that he signed out AMA the second he was able to so he could be with you. Now get your head out of your ass and go talk some sense into that boy”

Dean sighed and washed a hand down his face. “You’re right. I’ll go take a look at his injuries. Thanks, Bobby. I haven’t been watching out for him like I should.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, son. You’re hurtin’ too. He doesn’t blame ya for that.”

Dean sighed, but pushed past Bobby and moved towards the house. Upon entering the kitchen, he found two plates each with a sandwich on it, but no Sam. Dean ignored the sandwiches and went into the living room. Sam wasn’t anywhere on the bottom floor, leaving only one place Sam could be, their shared room upstairs. 

When Dean made it to the bedroom door, he paused. He washed his hand back down his face and pushed the door open. Sam was laying on the far bed on his right side, back to him. An uneaten sandwich sits on the bedside table. Dean walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge next to Sam. He brushed a piece of hair from his eyes and shook his shoulder gently.

“Sammy, hey Sammy. Wake up for me bud.”

Sam blinked his eyes open, squinting at the daylight coming in through the window. “Dean? What’s wrong?” Sam tried to sit up, wincing as he did so. Dean helped him come to sitting, stabilizing him gently with a hand on his shoulder. 

“Bobby said you’ve been hurtin’. Is that true Sam? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m fine, Dean. You have your own shit to deal with. You don’t need my problems on top.”

“”That’s not true, Sam. I’m your big brother, I’m supposed to look out for you.” Dean meant every word, but he couldn’t help the small flinch he gave, thinking about his Dad’s last words. Luckily, Sam didn’t seem to catch it. “What’s hurtin' you Sammy?”

Sam dropped his head down, refusing to make eye contact. “Come, on Sammy. Let me take a look.” 

Sam shook his head once more. “Really, Dean. I’m fine.”

“Then why can’t you look me in the eye, Sammy?” Dean paused, allowing Sam a chance to speak up. When he remained silent, Dean continued. “Bobby said you’ve been squinting and can’t keep focus. Concussion?”

Sam nodded in response. “Headache with it?”

Another nod. “He also said something was up with your shoulder. Can I take a look?”

Sam nods a third time and Dean suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. Sam often goes nonverbal when he’s injured and it drives Dean nuts. He just wants to take care of the kid and move on with it. Dean pulls Sam’s shirt up and over his head and gasps at the sight. Sam’s chest is a giant purple bruise. 

“Christ, Sam!”

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” Sam croaks out weakly. 

“Bullshit, Sam. And your shoulder too. Jesus. Bobby said you were limping.”

“My knee looks about the same.”

Dean sighed and washed his hand over his face yet again. “Have you taken anything?”

Sam shook his head and this time Dean did roll his eyes. “You know, Sam. For being so smart, you’re really dumb sometimes.” 

“Yeah, I know.” 

“Hang out here, I’ll go get you some meds and ice.”

Sam opened his mouth to protest, but at Dean’s glare stopped him. Dean made his way downstairs grabbing an ice pack and a couple bags of frozen vegetables. He made sure to stop by the bathroom with the biggest first aid kit and pulled out a bottle of decent pain meds. Tylenol certainly wasn’t gonna help much with bruises like that. After wetting a washcloth, he heads back to the bedroom.

When Dean returns, Sam has laid back down and has his arm slung across his eyes. “Alright, Sammy. I got some meds for you.” Dean opens the bottle and taps out two pills, reaching out to hand them to Sam. Sam uncovers his eyes and catches sight of the bottle. 

“I don’t need that stuff Dean. Just get me some advil or something.”

“No way Sam. These bruises are pretty damn bad, and this headache of yours seems pretty bad thanks to that concussion you got. Take the meds Sam.”

“They make me tired.” 

“Good, those bags under your eyes tell me you could use the sleep.”

“I don’t want to sleep.”

“Nightmares?”

“Yeah.” Sam’s response is barely a whisper. 

“I’ll stay right here Sammy. I’ll wake you up if you start to have a nightmare ok? But you need to get some rest. And when you wake up, you need to eat something.”

Sam nodded, looking like he didn’t really want to agree, but knew better than to try and stop a worried Dean. Sam swallows the pills and lays his head back down. Dean drapes the cool washcloth over Sam’s eyes and places wrapped ice packs on the bruised areas. 

“Get some rest, Sammy. I’ll wake you up for dinner.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
